The Two of Us Against the World, Sammy
by Clo32
Summary: "I think you're just upset because I'm forging my own identity, separate from you." Dean swallowed but there was a fucking ball in his throat which prevented him to speak. - Based on writeworld's prompt.


So... It's the very first time I wrote directly in English so don't hesitate if you see any mistakes. And it's only the very first time I wrote on Supernatural so I really like to know how it feels.

I do not owe the Winchesters, of course. And the fic is published on AO3 with the pseudo Comm =)

 **The Two of Us Against the World, Sammy**

"I think you're just upset because I'm forging my own identity, separate from you."

Once he let the words out, Sam knew he was right. John gritted his teeth and stopped breathing for a few seconds. He stepped forward and showed the door to his younger.

"If you leave, you're not a part of us anymore." He muttered. "If you pass that door, you'll never come back."

Sam looked straight at his father. He clenched his jaw, took his pack and turned to the door. He slammed the door and John closed his eyes. He felt Dean moving to the door and he listened to his older running after his brother.

"Sam, Sammy!"

Sam stopped but he didn't turn around. He couldn't stand the broken look on his big brother's face. Dean waited, starring at Sam's back, few steps behind him. He felt Baby's keys on his left hand and focusing on the warm metal in his hand was the only way not to go to pieces. Sam eventually turned back.

"Come with me."

Dean chuckled, God knows how. Sam couldn't ask him to do that. Sam knew he wouldn't. He couldn't.

"It's not because of you."

Who cares? Who _fucking_ cares, Sammy? Leaving Dad is leaving me. You can't do that. You can't leave me. I need you, Sammy. The voice in his head was screaming but Dean couldn't open his mouth. He might throw up. He swallowed but there was a fucking ball in his throat which prevented him to speak.

He headed up towards the Impala and he opened the driver's door. He managed to said something like "Drive you to the bus stop" without crying and Sam came in. They drove silently. The thing in Dean's throat was still there and he struggled to keep it in.

Dean stopped Baby and stood still while his brother walked to the bus to buy a ticket. Dean watched him talking to the driver and he gripped the wheel with both hands to stop them shivering. Sam came back to the car and he bit his lips, trying to say something but holding back words which wouldn't have change anything.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I need to."

Dean nodded, still silent.

"I'll text when I'm in Cali."

Helpless, Dean waved at his brother. Helpless, Sam waved back before walking to the bus. He took a seat next to the window and looked at the Impala. It was worst that he'd thought. He hated himself to do that to Dean but he had to. He needed to live.

The bus started and Dean watched his brother leaving. Sammy leaving him. He couldn't breathe. The ball in his throat was growing second by second and Dean gritted his teeth to contain it. He started up Baby and drove to nowhere. He didn't pay attention, he didn't return to the motel where his father was waiting. He just drove in the dark, to run away from the scene, from the picture of Sammy leaving him, from the thought of his brother being gone, from the world falling apart.

Dean brutally stopped in the middle of nowhere. He got out of the car, he ran to avoid the feelings, the words he should have said, the look on Sammy's face, the "I need to", he fled from the "Separate from you", he ran until the fucking ball was too strong and he couldn't fight it no more. He fell to his knees, he opened his mouth to let the ball of feelings out, but there were so many things, he couldn't even scream so he cried silently, and still he couldn't scream, he couldn't form the words, _SammysgoneSammysgoneSammysgone_ , and he just kneeled until he threw out those fucking feelings, and son of a bitch, _Sammysgone_.

 _"Just the two of us against the world, Sammy."_

Dean closed his eyes and cried.


End file.
